Friday, December 7, 2012

Bits and Pieces

This is my first grade picture. My mother and grandmother made the dress...back when women sewed. I attended first grade at age five in Pima, Arizona, a small crossroad with one blinking light. If you yawned as you approached it, you missed it.

I have shaky memories of turkeys, cows, picking cotton, cranking the phone to make it work, learning how to count in school using pinto beans and tongue depressors, helping my mother to do the laundry with an old wringer washer, and the night the mountain lion tried to get in our small house. This was also the year my grandmother from Indiana came to visit and we were caught in a tropical storm while camping out on Mt. Graham. Oh, yeah. That was also the year I met "Dick and Jane".

My memories from this period were either vivid or misty with no apparent in between. It's surprising what we remember from our childhood--memories that linger for no particular reason.

Today is the day we commemorate all those lost in the surprise attack on Pearl Harbor in 1941. That was seventy-one years ago and an astonishing number of people have no idea why we have Pearl Harbor Day. If you're one of those people, click HERE and find out about an important piece of American and world history.

For those of you patiently tolerating my knitting socks shenanigans, I finished the first sock while on vacation and started the second one. When I have TWO finished socks, I'll post a picture. Actually, the first one came out pretty good!

Currently, I'm in a writing doldrums. Not sure why, but I seem to spend a lot of time staring at a blank screen. Perhaps it's the approaching holidays. Or maybe simply the steady creeping winter. Hopefully, I'll move past it really soon.

In the meantime, blessings on anyone who read this. I hope you have a wonderful day.

5 comments:

Good morning, Anny! I love your blog! We met on FB, I am a friend of Tom W's. I have been peeking in here everyday since.

Ah, yes, Dick and Jane, I remember them well! As you said, memories are a funny thing. I remember my Grandmother's old wringer washer in her basement. Right next to it was a stacked wall of turtle shells, like some catacomb in Paris. G-mom had rather a penchant for fresh turtle soup but for some bizarre reason, she kept the shells.

I can't wait to see the socks! I am a crocheter not a knitter, so making ones own socks seems quite magical to me! ^_^

Welcome, Laurel! So glad you stop by! It's amazing what we remember, isn't it? And sometimes our context is so skewed we can't imagine why our parents/grandparents did what they did. Blessings on you today!

Ah yes, Pearl Harbor Day, my older daughter's birthday. I love the photo, Anny. You look adorable! Once upon a time I too made all my own clothes, not because I had to, but because I loved designing and sewing.

Want to know more?

Anny Cook

Come on in...take time to browse...and if the spirit moves you, leave a comment!

**Copyright Notice**All written materials featured on this blog are protected under copyright. Any use of part or all of this material without the express written permission of the author is an infringement of personal creative property and subject to legal action.

Anny Cook's Webpage

Reader, author, wife, parent and grandmother, Anny Cook fits it all in her busy life. Now officially retired, she started writing in 2005 when she found herself at loose ends after yet another move. To date she has twenty-three published titles ranging from a Quickie, Everything Lovers Can Know to a plus novel, Shadows on Stone. She has three series—Mystic Valley, Flowers of Camelot, and Tuatha Treasures.